


real love, true love

by woojin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, camboy au, sugar daddy with a twist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 05:11:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woojin/pseuds/woojin
Summary: sicheng becomes a camboy and his complicated relationships kind of get in the way.





	real love, true love

**Author's Note:**

> okay well this was a long work in progress. obviously this is nsfw. there's nothing personally triggering theres just a lot of feelings! 
> 
> title is from rltl (real love true love) by nu'est! support them on produce 101

Sicheng turns on the camera, and just waits. There’s an eerie silence that takes over his mostly dark room that he’s never noticed before.

His heart is pounding, feeling like it’s about to burst out of his body. He’s tense, but he urges himself to calm down. People want to see him be relaxed, not nervous.

A few people join the stream. As the numbers rise, and the comments begin to show up, his skin becomes hyper-conscious of himself. The people ask him questions like “Are you new?” and “What’s your name, baby?” or “Is this your first time?”

Sicheng decides to answer, because he read on a website five minutes before he started that he should be personable to viewers. “My name is Si —” he pauses. He probably shouldn’t be giving his name out to people that are watching him jerk off. “My name is Winwin.”

“How old are you?” user890123 asks as Sicheng takes his shirt off, slowly but surely.

“I’m nineteen. I turned nineteen in October,” he laughed a little bit, thinking about how he was telling these people things as he was getting ready.

He touches his bare skin as he reads, “I want to be the one that touches you,”

Sicheng turns red as his eyes blink, reading it. Apparently, his audience loves how shy he is, because more people comment on how cute he is when he blushes.

 

He pushes himself up his bed to get closer to the camera, running his hands across his chest, pinching his nipples, the bud hardening when his fingers trace around them, but gets surprised at his own touch. He gasps, and laughs as he imagined someone else touching him the same way.

“You’re so sexy.” muhanjeoga2017 says.

“Take your underwear off, you look beautiful,” is from wateredflowers20.

Sicheng takes that as a cue to do so, and he grasps the bands of his boxers, until he realizes he likes answering questions, so he lays there.

“Where do you live?”

“I can’t answer,” says Sicheng or “Winwin”. He has really nothing to lose saying he’s in Seoul, but he doesn’t feel comfortable saying so. However, three seconds later, he changes his mind. “I’m in Korea.”

Suddenly, the chatbox is filled with comments like “Aw,” or “That sucks.” and the occasional “Come back to China,”.  
Sicheng then takes his underwear off and feels like his head is spinning as he looks at his own dick. The air hitting it throws him off, and that’s when he realizes that he can’t turn back now. (Well, hypothetically he could, but he just whipped his dick out and 60 people are watching him and waiting for him to do something, so he wouldn’t.)

He hands start to shake, but it’s nothing he can really dwell on. He touches his dick, and realizes the anonymous compliments had left him more bothered than he thought. There’s a bit of semen that spurts from the top. He moves his camera to focus on his member, hiding his face. 

“No, move it back.” types user100198373.

“We want to see your pretty face, baby.” comes from a username that Sicheng couldn’t read. 

And so, he moves it back to it’s original angle. He begins to slide his hand up and down, trying to think of anything else from the fact that he’s wanking it in front of now 65 people. He thinks about his homework, laying with no motion on his desk across from his bed. Immediately after he stares at it, he realizes his arousal will definitely go down thinking of his workload. 

Admittedly, he can’t close his eyes, reading the comments with one eye open as he keeps pulling on his dick, his groans getting caught in his throat, fearing someone will hear him. His forehead is beaded with sweat, and his eyebrows furrowed as the encouragements and praise left his body burning.

Sicheng likes feeling sexy. He realizes that the transparency turns him on, and knowing that these people behind the screen are thinking of him makes him feel powerful, in the oddest way possible. He blushes when he thinks of people masturbating to him from the other side, fisting himself harder, thinking of them gasping the same way, and how dirty they were, just as he was himself, and little moans spilled from his mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed silently as he could feel something pooling in his stomach. 

“Be louder.” said one.

“Don’t be so shy, we want to hear you.” 

“More moans, let’s hear what your pretty mouth has to say.”

“Ah, fuck, oh my god,” he twists his nipple again, and for some reason, he feels like his orgasm is taking forever. He feels too hot. His self-consciousness kicks in.

He sits up, stroking himself faster, his face scrunching up, thinking of kisses around him, someone stroking him, someone touching him in the most personal way possible. He thought of rough hands on his thighs, biting them and leaving marks in between.

“I’m going to cum, oh my god, please,” Sicheng doesn’t know where his plea is coming from, but he knows that the audience wants to feel wanted, just as he wants to feel wanted. “Let me cum, I want to cum, Christ,” he demands.

Sooner than he thought, he spurts cum all over himself, mostly on his stomach.

The only thing he hears in the room is his own heavy breathing. 

He turns the camera off with a smile and a wave, the electricity still pinching on his skin. 

 

The first thing Sicheng feels when he wakes up in the morning is regret. However, he was 30,000 won richer than he was yesterday, so it wears off quickly.

The rain hits hard as he wakes up, and the thunder booms as he hits the ground with his feet harshly. He goes and washes up, and gets dressed, only to realize that there was no class to go to. It was 11:09 a.m.

“Hey, Sicheng,” Taeyong says as he closes the door.

“Hey,” Sicheng replies, throwing himself on the floor.

Taeyong was the closest person to Sicheng, not only in proximity. The first one to greet him when he came on campus, it seemed as if the universe wanted them to be friends, and so there they were as roommates. Taeyong helped Sicheng in Korean, and Sicheng helped in...whatever way he could.

Taeyong was an art major, and he was one of those rare people that were shy and yet extroverted. He was incredibly charming though, to everyone he met, whether that was because of his tender heart, his tantalizing gaze, or his talent in anything he put effort in. One night, he had an assignment due that he hadn’t started, and painted a picture of Sicheng writing a paper. A very small canvas, it still hanged in their dorm.

Sicheng was a dance pro, but majored in accounting, because that’s what payed the bills. He wasn’t too shabby at math, however, it was more of a hobby.

Sicheng didn’t have many hobbies to begin with. His hobbies included dance, and jacking off, and dancing, and sleeping, and singing in the shower, and jacking off. Then daydreaming in class, and solving math problems, and jacking off, and dancing, and sleeping again.

Taeyong was talented in dance, music, and art. Why he majored in art, Sicheng didn’t really know.  
What he did know, is for his new job (wanking for the world), he had to get it done while Taeyong was gone. Taeyong had a late night film class that started at 8 on Tuesdays. He also went out with his “friend” (which Sicheng assumed was a fuck-buddy), Doyoung, a brash yet somehow meek communications major, on Fridays. Taeyong usually didn’t come home until the late hours of the night.

Sicheng didn’t want to tell Taeyong. He didn’t think he would judge him, as Taeyong was quite subjective, and seemed to be physically incapable of judging anyone. He was that nice, and that’s what peeved Sicheng. 

He decided to not take the chances of jerking it while Taeyong was at a film class, just because of the chances of him coming home early or the class being canceled. Friday it was, then. 

“What are you thinking so hard about?” asked Taeyong, ruffling his white hair. He had refused to get his roots bleached, and instead got an undercut.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Well, okay then. Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you?”

“No. There’s nothing on my mind.”

“Alright, I’m studying with Doyoung. I just came to pick up my textbook. Don’t stay cooped up in the dorm all day. We may go out tonight, with Youngho and Taeil. You’re coming.” When Taeyong said you’re coming, you usually had no choice. He would coax and push and shove and plead and whine until he got what he wanted. 

Sicheng liked Taeil. He thought he was funny with his sly humor and shy demeanor. He thought of asking him out on a date, but Taeil was more mature, and he feared of looking like a child in front of him. Taeyong had said that Taeil was into that type of thing, treating his boyfriends and being protective. However, the time passed, and Sicheng got over his crush on the music major. He will never forget when the flowers bloomed while Taeil’s voice sang in Sicheng’s ears.

When Taeyong had left, he checked his messages on the cam website. There were none, but he was a bit relieved. He was still shocked that he had garnered the courage from last night, and he turned to the other side of his bed.

Kun would be proud, thought Sicheng of his first boyfriend, back in high school while he was in China. Kun was a year older, a boy of energy but full of lust. They both came from a small town where everyone had known each other, and couldn’t get away with much. To this day, Sicheng didn’t know how Kun and him had managed to get away with sucking each other off from behind the soccer field after school. 

He was a bit of an exhibitionist, as most could tell. Sicheng remembers Kun’s eyes staring up at him as he hollowed his cheeks, and his soul almost leaving his body. He almost feels like he’s there, with Kun urging him, “Come on, be a good boy, cum for me, you’re doing so well, Sicheng, Sicheng, Sicheng,” and the dust brushed off from Kun’s knees when he was done. When Kun stood up, Sicheng’s cum spilled out from the corners of his mouth, smiling.

His voice still rings in his ears. To that day, that was one of the most mind-blowing orgasms he had ever had. (The second one was probably when Taeyong pity-fucked him at the beginning of the semester. He was also drunk, which is why it heightened his senses, and why Sicheng knows where Taeyong had gripped his hips in a fit of anger with the younger.)

If he wanted to go on cam again, he absolutely could if he wanted to. But he didn’t feel ready to do so. The feeling of showing yourself to the world wasn’t the way he thought it would be. Unlike that fated day with Kun, there was no thrill of getting caught. In a way, he was already being caught. 

However, Sicheng did like money. And attention. So, he’d have to live with the bursts of regret in the night for a while. 

He looked at the clock, and saw that it was now 12:07 and he hadn’t even bothered to eat. He closed his door and made his way to the dining hall.

Eating was mostly uneventful for Sicheng. He usually ate with the Taeyong’s friends, and listened to their banter. For some reason, wherever Taeyong was, they followed, and so Sicheng was alone. He should go and ask them where they were. He didn’t though, because the silence didn’t translate to loneliness.

After he was done eating his meal that he couldn’t remember, he decided he should probably go to class for once today. He gathered his bag and had walked five minutes to the tune of some song he had heard Taeyong playing on his phone. 

He sat in his mandatory world history class, which to his own surprise, he had been early to. Only by two minutes. That was still early to him, though. 

The teacher droned and passionately lectured about battles and kings and queens and people who were too broke to be considered as people to these kings and queens, and these people still had to fight these battles and die for them anyway. Sicheng found it ridiculous. Yet, we still do that today, he admitted.

He admired his teacher’s enthusiasm. He also noticed his admirer, a boy sitting behind him, taking notes quietly and brushing his hair to the side. His jaw was defined and his eyes peeked out from the long brown bangs that framed his face. Sicheng could feel his gaze, and every time he turned around, his eyes would deflect from the back of his head and look down to his paper.

He was now under his tantalizing spell. Whenever Sicheng had the chance, he was reaching over to get something from his backpack, just to glance at the boy.

He had noticed that his hair was actually purple, a deep one, the colors of the flowers that sat comfortably in the thorns outside the building they were in. It seemed brown, but the way that Sicheng had attempted to make it discreet that he was checking the boy out had confused him.

He wanted to whisper, Hey, I think you’re really hot, let’s just admit the truth. We’ve been checking each other out for the past two hours. So, what’s up with that?

When the professor had dismissed class, Sicheng was packing his things in his bag. He thought of visiting his frequent dance partner, Ten, in the studio, and working on some moves for the upcoming show.

However, there was a tap on his shoulder when he was bending slightly to place his pens in a smaller pocket in his bag. It was the unnamed boy that he had been eyeing down for the past hour. 

“Hey.”

“Hello.” Sicheng replied, sounding far too formal than he usually spoke.

“So, I noticed you looking at me,” said he, grinning slyly. 

Sicheng raised his eyebrows. “As did I,”

“I was thinking if you wanted to grab coffee or something. We both know I’m into you and you are to me.”

“I don’t know your name.” he deadpanned.

“I’m Yuta. Now you know.” he stared back, waiting for Sicheng’s response. Okay. He was getting lost in the dark irises of Yuta’s eyes. This wasn’t good.

“I’m Sicheng. I’ll go with you, but I don’t have money.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t pay for my guest?” Sicheng cracked a laugh, but only because of how corny it was.

They walked side by side to a nearby coffee shop, a few minutes off the campus. It was frequently visited by students, obviously, because of the close distance. 

Sicheng learned a few things about Yuta on the way. He was Japanese, from a big city in the western side of Japan, Osaka. It was, in his words, “bigger than most Japanese cities, but not like Tokyo.” He had noted that.

Sicheng’s hometown was nothing special, so he usually just says he lived outside Hong Kong. Yuta was two years older than Sicheng, but his 21st birthday hadn’t approached yet. Yuta was a pre-Med major, and said he moved to Korea because he wanted a fresh start. Sicheng did for the same reason.

One thing that impressed him about Yuta was his surprising fluency in Korean, his lack of effort in understanding anything, whereas it took Sicheng a minimum of five seconds to comprehend someone’s words and then formulate a response. His quick and biting humor apparently was a big thing in his hometown.

Sicheng imagined Yuta in Japan, riding on horses and speaking in a heavy country dialect. For some reason, he drew the connections between American westerns and the rough and rowdy environment that was Yuta’s childhood.

Yuta was a man of very many words. In the span of thirty minutes, he learned his favorite ice cream flavor was vanilla (“It’s basic, I know. It gets the job done. I’m not vanilla though,” Yuta winked, and Sicheng rolled his eyes so far that it reached the back of his head.). He also played piano as a kid, and then quit because he sucked at it. “I still like listening to classical music. I just wish I didn’t have to fucking play it.”

He was a pre-Med major, but hated his major, just like Sicheng. Yuta wanted to major in literature. 

“You dance?” Yuta asked, sipping his entirely black coffee. Sicheng watched him drink it, because who the hell drinks black coffee, and also because he needed time to respond coherently and not just a simple “yes”.

“Yes,” he croaked. He should have said more, but Sicheng realized that he hadn’t mentioned dance at all in the conversation. “How’d you know?”

“Ten’s my roommate. You’re his partner, aren’t you?”

Small world., thought Sicheng. “Yeah, he’s my partner. He’s really talented.”

Yuta drank his coffee again, the cozy atmosphere allowing them to focus on each other. “He says the same about you. He said you’re pretty quiet.”

Sicheng laughed, a huskier one, and cleared his throat. “Anyone seems a bit quiet around Ten. His mouth runs a mile a minute.”  
“Even I seem less talkative around him,” Yuta agreed, his eyes staring into Sicheng’s again. His heart raced again, almost like the night before.

“You? Really?” Sicheng adjusted his sleeves, which were starting to cover the palm of his hands, because they were too long.

“I know it’s hard to believe. I’m multifaceted, you know.” 

“I’m sure you are. Everyone is.” Sicheng smiled, his teeth baring for Yuta to see fully.

The lights dimmed in the coffee shop, but one light shone on the two of them. 

 

Months passed after that fated coffee date, and Yuta and Sicheng now began to do everything together. From homework that neither of them could help the other on, to watching some random television show that had come on in Yuta’s room, usually some anime that Yuta would have already set up before Sicheng came.

In this time, there wasn’t much occurring in Sicheng’s life. Two months before, he bleached his hair after Taeyong had somehow convinced he’d look great as a blonde. Sicheng dyed it a bright beachy blonde, and had coated the back of his head the pink of a cotton candy. Until Yuta had told him he looked like Trix yogurt was dumped on his head, he thought it looked good. Afterwards, he begged Taeyong to help him tone it to an ashier, pale pink blonde. 

Sicheng still did cam. He eventually warmed up to it, and started to get a bit more adventurous with what he did. A few weeks ago he was messaged by a stranger that said he would deposit 57,000 won if he used a dildo on next Friday’s stream. He couldn’t say no to that.

Taeyong had noticed that Sicheng had more money than usual, and he was aware that Sicheng’s parents had sent him money every two weeks. He was also aware that it wasn’t that much money. Taeyong would bat his eyes, but wouldn’t say a word. Sicheng knew that Taeyong never said anything unless he was absolutely sure. So, he let him stay confused. 

On another rainy day similar to the day they had met, Yuta and Sicheng were again trapped in Yuta’s room during a storm. They were staring mindlessly, watching a movie, until Yuta started fooling around on Sicheng’s laptop after they decided that it was too boring.

“Yuta, stop, hey, listen —” Sicheng attempted to reach over Yuta’s back and grab the laptop from him, but Yuta kept shoving him away.

“What’s this?” Yuta had let his guard down, and turned around. The desktop glowed with Sicheng’s profile on the cam website. Sicheng’s lips were pink and puffy, his index finger on his left hand dragging his bottom lip down, and him laying on his stomach in his bed. He had arched his back to where you could see the curve of his ass. He was shirtless, and he was wearing only a pair of tight, white briefs. The picture was clearly recent, considering the hair color matched the lighter pink tufts on Sicheng’s head.

Sicheng’s eyes widened in horror, just as the picture on the screen, except it was supposed to show some sort of innocence of him. Sicheng had many pictures like this, mostly on his phone, because yeah, it was fun to take them, to look seductive and bother someone with them.

“That’s, uh —”

“It’s what?” Clearly, Yuta had already come to the conclusion himself. He just wanted to hear the words leave Sicheng’s mouth. He had placed his hand near his ear, signaling an “I can’t hear you” motion.

He sighed. He didn’t want to keep anything hidden from Yuta, so he didn’t even want to try and lie. “Okay, fine, that’s my cam profile, let’s watch the movie again —” 

“I thought you found it boring, camboy?” Yuta giggled, a snort almost coming out. 

Now, Sicheng had to tell everything. They had spent the next hour talking about sexual escapades and awakenings, which to Sicheng’s surprise, never came up as a topic. Yuta always talked about the most obscure things, but he never really knew what his love life was like. 

Sicheng told him the Kun story, the one that left him with his heart shaking, even though it was almost three years ago. He also told him about when he was drunk and super horny, and Taeyong had fucked him just to shut him up and get some sleep. 

“Only Taeyong would fuck someone out of pity,” Yuta had laughed. Not only was Yuta was connected to Ten, but Yuta and Taeyong apparently went to high school together, and lost contact afterwards. Sicheng figured this out when Yuta had came to his dorm for the first time, and saw the quiet but ever observant Taeyong writing music on his desk. It looked like a scene from The Notebook.

“So your exhibitionist ex-boyfriend is the reason why you’re here?” Yuta had been laying on the floor.

“Kind of. Yeah. Fuck you, Kun.”

“You already did.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

When he thought about it, Sicheng really missed Kun. He still had his number, and every once in awhile Kun would call and ask Sicheng how he was doing. The more he thought of it, he realized Kun was looking for someone to confide in, and at the end of the day, they didn’t break up because he was going to college. They had broken up because Kun felt guilty for taking his virginity away on a windy but calm night in the spring.

Sicheng was nervous at that time, but the actual event he couldn’t remember it happening. All he remembered was the blood pooling to his feet, and Kun’s hands intertwined with his. He remembers the sweat on Kun’s face, and the small fraction of the lighting in Kun’s room, covered in posters.

He had never admitted that though, and Sicheng had arrived to that answer by himself. He forgives him, but he was honestly never disappointed. He made a mental note to call him in the morning.

Yuta said he had kissed Taeyong after an art show in high school. Something like that was easy for Sicheng to believe. He said nothing went farther than that, but Yuta had never felt that way for a long time. He usually had one-night-stands, and he never called back when he was given numbers.

“So, need a partner?” Yuta was eating chips as he awaited Sicheng’s answer.

“For projects? I’m good right now, I think.”

“No, you idiot, for your cam show.”

“What? Yuta, no, listen —”

“How about you listen? I want to be in your little performance. I’m not fragile, Sicheng. If anything, you are.”

Yuta had a point. He wasn’t ready to admit that yet, though.

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he cracked his signature smile, that stretched from one end to the other.

“Why would you want to do it?” Sicheng was looking down, avoiding eye contact with Yuta. 

“Because it seems fun. I’ve wanted to try it. Especially with you. We’re comfortable with each other, aren’t we?”  
They were. Sicheng could confide in Yuta. Both of them were navigating in a world as foreigners. They understood each other. With the tension they had built up, the moment was anticipated.

He just hoped that it never grew into something more. Sicheng was cursed, almost sad that he thought of Kun when Yuta was looking at him. Kun was afraid to love Sicheng, just as Sicheng was afraid to love Yuta.

“Alright. The stream’s tomorrow at 11. Come at 9:30.”

 

Sicheng couldn’t sleep. Luckily, it was a reasonable time to be up in the morning, around 9:00 a.m. (It was exactly 9:34 when Sicheng woke up. He just saw the 9 as the first number, and decided that was all he needed to hear.)

Taeyong wasn’t up yet. The hair as white as clouds peeked from under his blanket. He always moved a lot in his bed, usually because he was ridden with anxiety about whatever was anticipated the next day. Eventually, it just became a habit for him.

As Sicheng washed up, he remembered that last night he had said he was going to call Kun in the morning. Taeyong would probably be pissed that he was communicating with him, in the you’re-my-best-friend-and-you’re-making-bad-decisions way, so he couldn’t call in his room. Even then, his room had no service. It was fantastic in the hallway, but that wasn’t the best place to call your ex for no reason other than the fact that you wanted closure and you’ve been thinking about him way too much.

So, Sicheng grabbed his phone, and ran downstairs to outside the dorm building and went behind it. He typed in Kun’s number (one of the few he knew from memory), and waited five rings. After the sixth, he says hello.

“Kun?”

He recognized it instantly. “Sicheng?”

“Yeah, me, it’s me. Sicheng.”

There wasn’t a word from Kun’s end of the line, and Sicheng didn’t want to start the conversation, even though he had phoned him first.

“How are you?” Kun said, with a shaky laugh. It was so subtle yet passed the just noticeable difference. It was only something Sicheng could detect. 

“I’m fine. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” Sicheng’s foot dragged back and forth in the dirt of the garden that bordered the dorm. 

“Well, I’m just fine. Just like you.” There was a shuffle in the background, probably him searching for something.

There was more silence. Sicheng counted the number of roses in the garden on his side. He made it to ten before Kun spoke again.

“Is there anything particular you need, my Winwin?” he laughed, charmingly. Sicheng could sense the smile creeping up on Kun’s face. The nickname that he gave made Sicheng’s heart ache. 

“How would you know?”

“I know you better than anyone else, that’s how. If you didn’t need something from me, you wouldn’t call me.”

Sicheng took a deep breath. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Well, no, I’m not in love with you, I’m definitely not, but I need closure. Something in me just wants you to tell me why, and —”

“Sicheng, is this really why?”

“Yes. I’m serious.”

Kun sighed. Sicheng knew he did this when he was stressed, or frustrated, usually at him.

“I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t love you. Yes, it was because I took your virginity away, but I don’t regret it. It just told me that I’m off to college, and you’ll still be here. I just thought you would be better off with someone else. It made it easier for me to let you go slowly but surely.”

People were passing by, trying to get to class. Sicheng was watching the quick steps hurry across the campus as Kun’s words processed in his mind.

“I started doing cam. That’s why I called you. You reminded me of it, for some reason.”

“Was it when I sucked your dick outside the —”

“Yes, god, yeah.” Sicheng’s lungs even tensed up thinking about it. 

“I miss you, Sicheng.” This conversation was full of confessions.

“I miss you too.”

“I’m surprised you’re a camboy. You were so shy.”

“I was in high school, Kun. I literally spoke to two people in our town.”

“My effect on you, huh?” Kun’s sweet energy radiated. From hundreds of miles away, it still had an effect on Sicheng. “Come back to China sometime, okay?” 

“I will. Maybe on break.”

“I have to go to class. My day’s pretty packed, but I’ll call you when I have time.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Winwin. Don’t think of me too much.” With that, he hung up.

The wind blew in Sicheng’s hair when he went inside. He got his things for a lecture in 30 minutes, greeted Taeyong, and left.

 

Sicheng couldn’t get two things off his mind. First was the cam show with Yuta. The second was Kun’s voice on the phone.

He was screwed. 

He tried to focus in class, on the numbers and the problems and how they all fit together. He would figure it out later, if he really wanted to. Half paying attention was enough for Sicheng.

After two and a half hours of Yuta and Kun’s lips on his mind, he raced home to his dorm.

He was alone, as Taeyong always had somewhere to be. He decided to do what he did best, which was of course, jack off.

Sicheng thought of Yuta’s lips on his when he began to stroke himself up and down. In his mind, he could almost feel Yuta’s embrace around him, it being harsh and rough. His fingers would almost claw in his waist. He would leave mark after mark on his skin, on places where everyone could see. He imagined that Yuta was rough and liked everything hotter, faster, more intense. He thought of Yuta making come untouched, the sensation numbing him and begging for release. He wanted him to edge him closer and closer, and leave him there. 

When Sicheng’s face burned in embarrassment at the thought, he thought of Kun once more. He would come pretty fast if he thought about their past sexual encounters, but Sicheng tugged on himself, whimpering and thinking of Kun’s lips on his dick one more time. He thought of Kun’s praises and his overwhelming attentiveness. 

“Sicheng, you’re doing so good for me, lie over, yeah?” Kun said.

“No, stay how you are.” replied Yuta.

Sicheng was about to go crazy, and so, he quickly forced himself to come, the orgasm feeling like the end of a high speed chase, grateful that it was over. As if the winds rushed the ocean to crash on the shore, Sicheng’s whole body felt sore when he stared up at the ceiling.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him these past few months. He was unsure if he was taking things too far with Yuta, or if contacting Kun was a bad idea. On one hand, both felt somewhat satisfying but also guilt-ridden.

The most he could do was wait for Yuta to come at 9:30. He began to read a book required for his literature class. The book pages turned and the words were read but nothing could resonate in Sicheng’s mind. He drifted off to sleep before he could finish the third chapter.

When he woke, he dreamt of nothing. There was only darkness and the light that peaked through the window, and it sat on Sicheng’s eyelids. The clock on Taeyong’s side of the room glowed with time of 8:30.

He knows he shouldn’t have overslept, but then again, the sleep was a good refuge from reality. Knowing Yuta, he always showed up late anyway, so Sicheng lingered. He stared at the desk drawer next to Taeyong’s bed. It was only at this time that Sicheng wondered where Taeyong was. But he could take care of himself. He doesn’t rely on anyone.

He stood up, and walked several feet to open the top drawer. Inside, there was lipstick and eyeshadow. The lipstick was a darker red shade, a deeper cherry color. The eyeshadow was in a small clear container, a glittery silver. There were other things, like lube and condoms, (which Sicheng planned on using later, now that there was the convenience of having them so near) and wipes. 

Sicheng went into his own drawer, and pulled out a box that had been delivered to him a week before. He ripped it apart, no consideration for returning it, and held up the lingerie.

He felt the fabric and it seemed like it would itch. On the day that Sicheng had ordered it, he had asked Taeyong what color he looked best in. 

“Pink.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I like you in that color, I suppose.”  
So, Sicheng had picked a pretty pink color to match the hair on his head. He tried the panties on. He admitted that it was a bit too tight, but that was the purpose of lingerie, right? To accentuate everything?

The stockings were his favorite part, he felt like his legs looked longer. The lace didn’t leave much for the imagination, and brushed his legs. He connected the garter belt, and his thighs felt hugged and embraced. 

He stared at himself in the mirror, and grabbed the lipstick and eyeshadow. He coated the color, and puckered his lips in satisfaction. He smiled at himself, seeing if the lipstick suited him. It made him look like a flower. Sicheng was blooming.

He didn’t know how to apply the eyeshadow, so he took his pinky and dugged into the container, and rubbed his eyelid. It was messy, but maybe that’s what Sicheng wanted. He wanted to look pretty, pretty for Yuta.

Sicheng looked like a doll, someone to play with, which was something he supposed the viewers would want. He smoothed out his hair, and went in Taeyong’s drawer one more time to see if there was anything else he could put on his face. He dug in, and found some blush. He used two fingers to smudge the pink color on his face, leaving a tinge that made it seemed that Sicheng was existentially embarrassed.

Sicheng wasn’t going to dwell why Taeyong had these things, but was grateful anyways. He touched his face. He liked what he saw. Sicheng was delicate, and very pink.

The time had passed fast, and now it was 9:00. He was going to tidy up the dorm, (well, his side of it. Taeyong was a neat freak, and stopped nagging Sicheng about cleanliness a while ago.) and threw everything away in the wastebasket, and what couldn’t fit in there, in Taeyong’s wastebasket. 

He made the bed, and couldn’t stop looking at himself. Sicheng wasn’t this conceited all the time, but now he couldn’t help but not be full of himself. When he was done, he laid on his bed, the pillows sinking into him.

There was a knock on the door. It was Yuta, and Sicheng was shocked that he came early. He must have been eager. That’s how the both of them thought they would be to the other: a quick fuck. Sicheng couldn’t blame him, he was eager too.

“Come in,” he yelled, in his deep voice that contradicted his looks.

Yuta opened the door, and his eyes widened. “Sicheng?”

“Hey, Yuta,” he tried to act casual. The key was to not look like he tried. But he very much tried. 

“I like your look.”

“Thank you. Are you ready?” Sicheng didn’t want to think of the red flushing on his skin.

“I thought we were supposed to talk about what we do. Since you know, I’ve never had sex with you.”

Ah yes. Sicheng was too excited to think about what’s cool with Yuta and what’s not. Hell, he didn’t even think of whether Yuta was into crossdressing or not. He got carried away.

“First things first,” Yuta began. “You’re lucky I’m into crossdressing. What a shame it would be if you had to take all your makeup off, since you look so pretty.”

“Okay.” Sicheng was trying to ignore the fact that Yuta called him pretty, and he had choked up a bit as he began his sentence. “ Uh, well, you can honestly do whatever. Just don’t pee on me or something.” Sicheng was sure he’d be willing to try anything Yuta wanted to. “Oh, and feet. Don’t fucking lick my feet.”

Yuta laughed, a full one that brought a smile to Sicheng’s face. “Okay. I’ll make sure not to. One more thing, I don’t like hickeys in noticeable places. As long as it isn’t able to be seen, I’m okay.”

That was faster than Sicheng thought. He wanted the stream to start at 11, but he supposed he should just start now.

He went to the website, and clicked “launch stream”. While they waited, people joined the stream, They had decided they’d start talking after 250 people had came. 

When the fated number hit, Sicheng waved. “Hello,” he stared at the comments of people saying hello back. “Someone had suggested that I bring a partner, and so I did.” Sicheng giggled, trying to sound more flirty. “There were loads of things I wanted to do, and so I combined them into one.”

Sicheng spoke in his mother tongue, so Yuta had no idea what he was saying. 

“Anyways, this is my partner, Yuta. He’s from Japan, and he’s a friend of mine. He’s really hot, too.” Sicheng laughed one more time.

The comment section flooded with compliments towards Yuta. Sicheng read them to him, “This one says that you’re sexy. And this says that your lips are full, and how they'd like to kiss you.”

Yuta and Sicheng stared at each other, and the silent communication gave them the idea that they should do something. Yuta leaned forward, SIcheng in the same place, and they kissed each other.

Yuta was a good kisser. He never forced himself on Sicheng, only let Sicheng force himself on him. Sicheng broke the kiss to fall on the bed, and Yuta climbed on top of him to kiss him again. The dimmed lights made the makeup glow on Sicheng’s face. 

Yuta’s embrace was warm, and he held him close, and Sicheng loved the intimacy that he had. He unlocked their lips and went down to Sicheng’s neck, and Yuta’s hot breath caused him to shiver as he kissed, bit, and tugged at Sicheng’s skin to make a mark.

“Now the world can know that you’re mine.” Yuta said, his hands roaming around Sicheng’s chest.

Sicheng’s breath hitched as Yuta rubbed his hand over his dick, looking inside his pink panties, and then snapping them back to hit him.

“Did you want to look pretty for me, Sicheng?”

He took them off, baring his dick for everyone to see. “You look so beautiful, Sicheng,”’ he observed, and then licked the precum peeking from Sicheng’s head.

“How beautiful am I?” Sicheng asked, his eyes were big. He wanted to hear.

Yuta obscenely went down on Sicheng, humming and Sicheng was about to lose his mind at the vibration. Yuta’s mouth on Sicheng was spread out, as if on purpose, and his dark eyes sunk into Sicheng’s soul. His dick bulged out of his mouth, bobbing up and down and Yuta didn’t seem like he was going to give up.

When he came off, stroking Sicheng up and down, Yuta said, “More than you could ever imagine. The sun represents you, my dear Sicheng.”

Sicheng could not help but burn at the praise. He was embarrassed as hell, but he could only feel blissful hearing this from Yuta.

“Do you want me to tell you how good you are?”

Yuta went back to sucking him off, leaving Sicheng breathless and unable to reply. His hips bucked up to fuck Yuta’s face, and he was chanting, “Yes, yes, yes, tell me how good I am, oh my god —” 

He was sliding in and out, and Yuta was holding on, for Sicheng’s sake, and Sicheng began to see white, but Yuta could somehow sense it too, and somehow he had let go.

“You did so well, baby,” 

Sicheng felt like he was in the middle of his own lucid dream. Yuta was marking his thighs for him to stare at for hours after, and Sicheng’s eyes are glazed, covered in his own lust.

However, he had to control his urge. The show would end if Sicheng came too soon, and Yuta had read his mind exactly.

“Roll over,” he says, silently, as if there’s something to hide. There is something to hide. For a moment, Sicheng wonders whether this is the beginning of the end for Yuta and him. He decides that if Yuta isn’t bothered, then neither should he.

Yuta rolls off the bed, and Sicheng realizes that he hasn’t taken any of his clothes off. He feels a bit bad that he isn’t able to get his own pleasure, and he watches Yuta shake off his plain shirt, seeming to represent a high school class of his. 

“Can I touch you?”

“The people want to see you, not me,” Yuta replies, a gleam of humor in his eyes. “Maybe some other time. For now, we’ll show them what they want to see.”

Sicheng was surprised that Yuta took this so seriously. He observed him pull his sweatpants down to the ground, and honestly, wasn’t shocked by his length. Sicheng walked in on him a few times, and remembers Yuta not moving an inch in surprise, instead asking, “Like what you see?”

Yuta attempts to open the condom with his fingers, but instead goes for ripping it open with his teeth. When he rolls it on, he opens the lube bottle, and Sicheng braces himself for the cold liquid. It always gave him a bit of a shiver, and he was never used to it.

“You ready?” Yuta asks him, with concern written on his face. He doesn’t know why, but Yuta is glowing, like the sun loved him the most.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Sicheng was. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt.

With that, Yuta lines himself up, and for a moment, Sicheng almost stops him just to avoid the slow burn. He wants to endure it. He put Yuta in this situation. (Well, not really, Yuta put himself there, but he felt like he owed it to him to let him fuck Sicheng.)

“Move,” Sicheng barely croaks it out. 

Yuta does. He moves slowly, as if Sicheng was delicate and easy to break. Both was true, but Sicheng didn’t like it. He was pretty, but durable. He could handle himself.

“Is that all you can do?” Sicheng says, trying to make it more exciting. “Try harder, Yuta. Maybe you’re not as good as I thought.”  
Yuta slaps Sicheng. It stings, and Sicheng can feel the flesh turning red. As he recovers from that shock, Yuta goes faster, harder, rougher. Sicheng’s senses are overflowing, his whole body in awakening.

“Is that enough for you?” Yuta scowled, his hands lightly surrounding Sicheng’s neck. 

Sicheng couldn’t respond. Yuta’s thrusts were precise and relentless, never missing a step on the beat. Sicheng’s eyes were rolling to the back of his head, as he was concentrating on holding his lace covered thighs open. 

Yuta was beginning to come undone, getting messier and messier, and began to kiss Sicheng, his lipstick smearing. The red dripped on Sicheng’s chin, and intensely colored the lightly tinted pink cheeks.

He was on cloud nine. There were people watching, suddenly it all came to Sicheng, and his abdomen was coming with a familiar feeling.

“Come for me, Sicheng.” Yuta said, with his one hand on Sicheng’s dick, jerking him off with quick and fast strokes.

Suddenly, Sicheng is reminded of the sea. The tides crash, and the water seeps on the shores of the beaches as their limits.

 

If Sicheng was supposed to feel remorseful, he wasn’t. However, he was disappointed to find that Yuta’s warmth next to him was gone.

He checked his phone, and saw a text from Yuta.

nakamotoyuta95: hey sicheng, i got a really early class today. i know you wake up late, but that was fun. take care of yourself. call me when you want to.

Sicheng noticed that Yuta’s message was completely devoid of emotion, which was unusual for him. Did he regret it? He said that it was fun. 

Sicheng almost felt like crying, for whatever reason. He curled up on his pillow, and the tears fell silently. He didn’t want anyone knowing that he was crying, and looked at Taeyong’s abandoned bed. He must not have come home that night. He called Taeyong, and the phone rang seven times.

When it didn’t answer, he texted him, and he responded quickly.

sicheng1997: taeyong where are you  
tylee0701: with doyoung

That was all Sicheng needed to know. So, he stayed in his room. He was probably overreacting. He was doing a lot of that lately.

Sicheng looked at his cam profile to pass the time. It was almost the same, he had scheduled a stream for next Friday, but he was thinking of just talking to the viewers. He was looking through the day old comments that didn’t make him feel anything anymore.

He noticed a bright red arrow pop out of a letter in the top right corner of his screen. He had received a message.

Sicheng was tempted not to look at it, it was someone probably trying to hit on him or something. However, he had nothing to lose by reading it. He waited the two seconds while the computer screen loaded.

valentineboy97: hello

That was all that sat in his inbox. Sicheng prayed that that 97 in the username meant 1997. 

winwin0000: hello

valentineboy97: hey, i just wanted to know if you do private shows?

Sicheng rolled his eyes to the back of his head. He wanted to block the user, but he decided he should be nice.

winwin0000: depends on the person. if you’re in the area, and got some money, and you’re not horrendously old, i’m down.

valentineboy97: what if i told you i lived in seoul? would you be willing to fly out? i’ll pay of course.

Sicheng’s heart did a cartwheel. This man must have a lot to offer. However, now Sicheng hd to mention that he’s in Seoul too, and not China as the man probably thought.

winwin0000: that won’t be a problem. i live in seoul.

valentineboy97 takes three minutes to respond.

valentineboy97: i hope you don’t mind meeting me somewhere then? i’ll pay whatever you’d like. i’m not a creepy old man or anything, i promise.

winwin0000: how old are you, then?

valentineboy97: nineteen. there’s this coffee shop next to my university, and i can just send you the address if you need it.

winwin0000: i live in that part of seoul, i think i know where you mean.

valentineboy97: oh, alright then. how about today at 3?

winwin0000: no problem. i’ll see you.

 

Now, Sicheng was sitting in the same spot that he had gotten to know Yuta, almost sixteen hours after he had sex with him.

He wondered what the boy looked like. He didn’t have to wait any longer though, because he had taken a seat right in front of him.

“Hey, Winwin, right? I’m Jaehyun.”

The boy had golden blonde hair, his roots overtaking the top half of his head. His posture was straight, and his confidence was easy to see, almost transparent. When he smiled, there was a certain boyish charm to him, showing his youth through the lines that bore his face. 

“Yeah, I’m Winwin. Sicheng’s okay, too.”

“Sicheng,” he said, enunciating the two syllables, as if to process the name and place it in his long-term memory.

The atmosphere grew heavy as Sicheng watched Jaehyun order coffee and pastries. 

“And you, sir?” the waiter had asked him.

“I’ll have nothing, it’s okay,” he smiled sheepishly, a bit embarrassed to eat in front of him. 

“I’ll pay, Sicheng. It’s fine, order what you want.” Jaehyun’s eyes awaited an answer.

Sicheng ordered a colder coffee and a brownie, unsure whether his new choices would work out to his tastes. He felt a bit more comfortable, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he wanted to take advantage of Jaehyun’s offer to pay, so he ordered an extra sandwich.

“You’re from China, right?” Jaehyun used that as his icebreaker.

“Yeah, I am. I’m from Wenzhou,”

“I’m a bit boring, I’m from Seoul. I lived in America for a while, though.”

“Oh, really?” Sicheng was genuinely intrigued. “When?”

“When I was in elementary school. I was really good at English back then. Now I’m so-so.” Jaehyun stated.

Sicheng was made to learn English since he was young, and was surprised to learn how much that pain he went through learning had helped when he started navigating in Korea. He wondered what Jaehyun meant by him being so-so. Maybe he’d figure that out soon.

“So, I guess I’m avoiding the elephant in the room.” It had just came to Sicheng’s realization that they were sitting in the very back of the cafe, where they could discuss privately. He hadn’t noticed this with Yuta.

“That you want to have sex with me?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun wiped his mouth. “I really, uh, enjoyed your shows. You’re cute and personable. I’m a bit young to be considered a sugar daddy and all, but I have the funds to be one. 

“I didn’t really want to have a private show. I want to —”

“Be my sugar daddy?” Sicheng almost shouted in disbelief.

“No, not really? I guess like? — goodness — a sugar friend?”

Sicheng snorted. On the inside though, he was pretty flattered. The boy across from him that seemed like he owned the world a few moments before was struggling to form words. 

“That kind of sounds like you want me to be your boyfriend.”

“Maybe?” Jaehyun almost stuttered. “I just, I don’t know, this seemed like a better idea in my head.”

“I’ll tell you this,” Sicheng said. “Whatever you wanted to ask, I’m okay with it. We can stop talking about it if you want to.”

Jaehyun smiled shyly. 

“What does valentineboy97 mean?”

“Oh, I was born on Valentine’s Day. In 1997, obviously. What does Winwin mean?”

Sicheng’s mind flashed to, as expected, Kun and the schoolyard. “Oh, a friend in China gave me the nickname. He was very dear to me.”

“He was dear to you? Did something happen to him?” Jaehyun seemed concerned.

“Oh, no. He and I just grew distant.” Sicheng really made it sound like Kun had died or something. 

“Glad to hear he didn’t die or something,” he looked up from eating his food, and giggled a bit.

Sicheng was absolutely surprised at how easy it was to talk to Jaehyun. With Yuta, he had the upper hand (seniority), so sometimes he would talk down to him. He liked it back then (now seventeen hours ago), but he found it refreshing to talk to someone that was the same age as him.

Now, Sicheng fell in love too fast. He knew this with Kun, and he knows this with Yuta. He couldn’t really help himself, and he wanted to be loved, very badly. He had almost achieved this love, with Kun, and with Yuta.

He wasn’t moving on too fast. As he listened to Jaehyun talk about his business major adventures, he had finally come to terms with the fact that he shouldn’t have slept with Yuta. He couldn’t take it back now, the most he could do is express this to him. And also express that he kind of agreed to be a paid boyfriend.

“My dad owned the business in America, that’s why I lived there. I don’t like business, though.”

“What would you rather do?” It seemed that Sicheng was meeting people that didn’t pursue their passions. Himself included.

“I want to paint. I want to go all over the world, and write and draw my surroundings. I don’t want to live up to the expectations others have of me. I want to be myself.”

“Oh,” Sicheng replied, hoping he wasn't coming off that he was lacking of emotion. “I just want to dance.”

“I felt that you were a dancer. It’s the way you walk, and you’re very gracious and tall. Like a deer.”

Sicheng had never heard that before. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”  
If Sicheng could compare all three of them, Yuta was the sun that illuminated everyone that came into contact with him, and Jaehyun was the dark night sky that came immediately after. The stars in Jaehyun’s sky gave him a lighter and calmer feeling, a comfort that came later. Kun was the earth, and the foundation of Sicheng. The earth was all around him, as was the sun and the moon.

When Jaehyun and Sicheng walked out of the cafe, he was full of wonder. 

“Would you like to go dancing with me?” asked Jaehyun, the nightfall approaching. 

“I’d love to.” replied Sicheng.

Jaehyun was a good dancer. Sicheng had imagined they’d be going clubbing, but the taxi that they took passed by all of the ones Sicheng was aware of.

They ended up at a tiny nightclub outside the city limits of Seoul, where it seemed that no one had inhabited the area. 

The music that played inside was quiet, and the riffs of the guitar vibrated through the air as a man’s rough hands strummed through them. Jaehyun had led Sicheng in the dance, Sicheng spinning and all that was in his sight was Jaehyun. The only light that shone was on the two of them.

Sicheng wasn’t dressed as nicely as Jaehyun. His clothes were too casual, a flannel and a black shirt underneath. Jaehyun however, had dress shirts and pants, and looked more or less like a CEO on a date. He must have been planning to go dancing with Sicheng all along, since everyone’s attire resembled each other. 

“Isn’t this fun?” Jaehyun asked, his hands locked with Sicheng’s, twirling him three times only to catch his falling body.

It had been a while since Sicheng was trained in ballroom dancing, and he was almost embarrassed to call himself a dancer after Jaehyun was beating him at his own game. 

“You’re too good, which isn’t making this so fun,” Sicheng said through his bared teeth. As Sicheng completed his thought, Jaehyun had lifted Sicheng in the air, like he was lighter than a feather. 

He was flying through the air, and the other guests had cheered as Sicheng’s body arched to have his hands reach the ivory ceiling. 

Jaehyun brought him back to the floor just as fast. 

When the small audience cheered as if there was triple the people watching them, Sicheng could feel the heat inside him rushing to his face. It seemed that Jaehyun was back to the beautiful boy from a distance, like a prince in the highest tower in the land. Sicheng was the one watching him from the ground that had no cost.

With Sicheng came freedom and a new found of appreciation of life to Jaehyun. With Kun, Sicheng had found freedom, and with Yuta, Sicheng kept it. 

***

Sicheng had came home with 500 dollars shoved somewhere in his jeans in the deep hours of the night. There was a lamp turned on with a sleeping Taeyong in his underwear waiting for him. Sicheng then checked his phone for the first time in a few hours.

tylee0701: sicheng are you okay

tylee0701: are you safe

tylee0701: sicheng

tylee0701: i’m waiting for you. dude you better not be out with one of your cam fanboys

**Author's Note:**

> 127 comeback soon please or debut the new boys either is cool. anyways please leave comments they motivate me to write more


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